


Come Closer

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Lingerie, M/M, Mild Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Tender Sex, Trans Cyril, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Cyril got a gift for his boyfriend. He's a little nervous about the whole thing, but it turns out Ashe likes it quite a bit.
Relationships: Cyril/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Kudos: 9
Collections: Anonymous





	Come Closer

When Ashe asked if he wanted to stay over that night, Cyril knew exactly what he meant. It made him jittery, too, though he could easily pass his shivering off as being from the cold. It was winter— nearing the end of the year— and Cyril had been waiting for a chance to show off something he got for his boyfriend. It was a bit nerve wracking. He wasn’t sure if the other was going to like it. There was always the possibility of him hating it, even, and the thought was so terrifying Cyril had half a mind to return the gift and forget he ever bought it.

Ashe was sweet, though, and certainly wouldn’t dismiss Cyril when he was only trying to do something nice. Hopefully. So he figured that night would be the night— he would present his gift to get it out of the way and then he wouldn’t have to fret over it anymore. A quick stop at his apartment was all he needed to get ready, and then they went to Ashe’s.

Cyril liked Ashe’s apartment. It was about as small as his own, but it was comfortable— he was always welcomed there and he felt safe. It was warm, too, which was just what he needed as his nerves made the cold bite a bit harder than usual.

“There was something you wanted to give me?” Ashe asked as they settled in, causing Cyril’s heart to spike. He set down his night bag and nodded. When he looked to Ashe, the other was smiling— an inviting expression.

“Yeah, uh— can we go to your room…?” It wasn’t far, and though the two of them were the only ones there, Cyril made sure to close the door behind them. Where he was cold before, he almost felt too hot then, face flushed and hands shaking.

Sometimes it was terrible how well Ashe knew him. He drew near to Cyril, running a careful hand through his hair as he pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Cyril knew his lover could see just how anxious he was. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” Ashe asked. His voice was soft, and the pleasant smile never left his face, though his eyes shone with a glint of concern.

“Fine! I’m… fine. Can you go sit down?” Cyril didn’t mean to sound snappy. He always had problems with tone. But Ashe knew that— he followed directions without complaint or offense, giving only another quick kiss to the side of Cyril’s head before he left to settle on the edge of his bed. “Okay… close your eyes.” And Ashe did, but it didn’t make Cyril feel secure enough. “Actually— just… put your face in the pillow. ‘N don’t look at me ‘till I say so.” Ashe chuckled, amused, but he complied, laying sideways until he could firmly plant his face in the pillows.

“Like this?” he asked, words muffled.

“Yeah… stay like that.” Cyril had to take a breath, once again terrified at the prospect of Ashe hating this, or thinking it was weird, or laughing at him. But if he turned back now, the other would just be worried. So he let out a sigh and pulled his jacket over his head, then moved on to remove everything else.

Underneath his clothes were thin pieces of black fabric— lace that covered only as much as was needed to spark the imagination of whoever saw him. His chest and hips were adorned with wisps of translucence. Stockings were slipped above his knees, held in place with delicate garters. It was nothing too fancy, but he hoped it looked good.

With his heart pounding and head light, he took some steps closer to where Ashe waited. He crossed his arms under his chest— a defensive gesture— and it took him a moment to find his voice. “I’m… um— you can look now.” Ashe rose to a sit from where he lay and opened his eyes. They widened as soon as they saw the display in front of them, a little gasp drawn into his lungs. For a moment, Cyril wasn’t sure if that reaction was good or bad— Ashe was silent and his mouth opened, but no words came out. “... Is it bad?”

“No—!” Ashe was almost panicked when he spoke, horrified that Cyril would think that for even a moment. “No, of course not, I… Cyril, you’re  _ gorgeous _ —” His gaze traveled across Cyril’s body and as it did, his face grew pink. His hands lifted, twitched, but he placed them back in his lap as though he wasn’t sure what he was allowed to do with them. “This is… you got this for me?”

“W-well I’m not… gonna let anyone else see this.”

“Right.” Ashe let out a laugh— more like a flustered puff of air— and swallowed. “Goddess, you’re… You look so good, Cyril. I… Um, can I touch you…?”

Cyril’s breath hitched. He nodded, and just as he did, Ashe lifted his hands again. They rested on the exposed skin at Cyril’s waist, causing him to shiver. “Oh— I’m sorry,” Ashe said, his voice low. “Are you cold? Come here, love.” He tugged on Cyril’s waist ever so gently, and Cyril took another step forward. Ashe slid off the bed just a bit and spread his legs so their knees didn’t touch as their distance closed. He wrapped his arms around Cyril with a slow motion, hands running softly across flesh as they went. And once he had his lover in an embrace, he leaned forward to trail kisses along his chest. Cyril moved his arms from their defensive position to accommodate him, shifting them instead to rest upon the other’s shoulders. He shook— not from cold, but from the electricity every brush of Ashe’s lips made him feel.

“So, ya… ya like it?”

“I love it, Cyril.” He could feel Ashe’s breath on his chest as he spoke. “I love  _ you _ — goddess, every time I think I couldn’t possibly want you more than I do, you surprise me.” His hand slid up Cyril’s back, tugging playfully at the strap of fabric he found there. The words paired with such a gesture elicited a little noise from Cyril— a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

“Oh, I… I’m glad. I wanna be pretty for ya, Ashe.”

“You’re beautiful,” Ashe smiled up at him with a loving expression that made Cyril’s breath catch in his throat. “Stunning— really. Um, did you… want me?”

The bluntness of the question made Cyril forget to breathe a moment longer. He crumpled a bit and looked away, yet answered sincerely with another nod. Cyril was straightforward with most things, but intimacy was hard— often he would dwell on whether it was alright to want such a thing. Or if he even deserved it. Ashe was always patient with him, though. And while he too succumbed to embarrassment from time to time, Ashe had a much easier go at expressing love to the full extent of his feelings.

Ashe brushed his fingers along Cyril’s hip, adding a bit of pressure to his previously light touch. “Come closer, beloved,” he purred. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” Cyril couldn’t help how he trembled, then— he ached for more of Ashe. The low tone of the other’s voice shot through him and it was all he could do to keep his knees from buckling. He looked to his lover, wanting to comply to his wishes in any and all ways he could. He leaned down enough so if it was wanted, their lips could touch. And Ashe was quick to take the offering— he moved a hand to the back of Cyril’s head and pulled him into a soft kiss. Cyril melted into the affection, his own fingers gripping at Ashe as he moved to deepen it.

The pace grew gradually, and it grew hungry, and they stayed intertwined like that for some time. Feeling each other as their want increased. As desire took hold of them in the form of tightened grasps and the ways their bodies moved. They only stopped when Ashe’s hands found their way to the band around Cyril’s hips, digging under the fabric but going no further.

“Cyril,” Ashe said, then, out of breath after breaking their kiss. “Would it be alright if I, um, took this part off?” His eyes were half-lidded as he spoke and Cyril looked back to him with a similarly dazed expression.

“Whatever ya want, Ashe,” he answered, voice barely above a whisper. It was easier to get past how bashful he felt once they already started— with Ashe touching him and his blood rushing to places other than his head. It was a good thing, too, as he knew Ashe needed the assurance. To be sure that Cyril was okay with everything that was happening.

Ashe smiled and brushed their lips together again as he fiddled with the garters. It didn’t take much work— Cyril soon felt as the fabric was slipped from his hips and down his thighs, Ashe’s fingertips trailing gently behind. Their kiss broken once more, Ashe cast his gaze downwards to where Cyril was now newly exposed. Cyril’s cheeks warmed as embarrassment once more kicked in and all at once he was acutely aware of how wet he was. How he throbbed. Though the eyes that looked there made him near self-consciousness, they made his arousal grow all the same. Because Ashe’s gaze was wanting. His lips were parted, still red from their prior embrace, and his head tilted as he looked. Fingers moving to Cyril’s inner thigh, Ashe’s breath was heavy, and it looked as though he fought to keep composure against the desire that surely stirred in his chest.

Oh, how Cyril craved that; the feeling of being wanted. And Ashe always did a good job of giving it to him— of letting emotions show plainly on his face so Cyril could see the aching want in his expression. Cyril’s own features betrayed his feelings on rare occasions, but the rest of his body did well to communicate his thoughts. The way he shook and the sounds he made— the way he gave himself to Ashe and trusted him when he did.

“Can you move back for me, sweetheart?” Ashe requested. And Cyril did just that, stepping backwards a few paces. Ashe thanked him, then slid forward until he was off the bed and on his knees. Cyril’s breath caught once more as he realized Ashe’s intentions, already grasping at the other’s shoulders before his lover’s tongue teasingly ran along his folds. He let in a gasp, quick to widen his stance. Ashe smiled. “I love you, Cyril. You look amazing like this.”

Cyril meant to respond— he thought Ashe looked rather amazing like that too, after all— but he didn’t get a chance before Ashe’s tongue was on him again. It teased his clit for just a moment, then made its way inside of him. A moan came from far within his chest and he tangled a hand in Ashe’s hair, an attempt to pull him deeper. He couldn’t tell how rough he was being— he just wanted more. And Ashe responded in kind, grasping at Cyril’s ass and the back of his thigh as he thrust his tongue as deep inside as it would go. Cyril whined, his whole frame shaking.

Just as he tried to get his bearings, Ashe shifted the attention to his clit. He closed his lips, and sucked, and moved his mouth in a way that left Cyril whimpering from pleasure and from surprise. It happened quickly, as if Ashe couldn’t wait to hear him make those sounds. To make his breathing heavy and uneven, broken up by moans and cries. Cyril felt as though his legs would give, but he was too far from the bed and the wall to seek support. With nowhere to hold on, he could only double over Ashe and cling to his hair and his shirt and any part of him he could grab hold of in a desperate attempt to stay on his feet. To not interrupt how wonderful it was— the feeling of Ashe’s lips around him, careful but confident in the way he gave pleasure.

Ashe kept up his pace, quickening if anything. The feeling of it built in Cyril’s core, heat under his stomach, rising and rising until he convulsed and cried out. His grip on Ashe tightened for a moment, then relaxed. And if he wasn’t sure he could stay standing before, he was positive of it then. It was alright, though— Ashe was prepared. He rose and pulled Cyril against himself, cradling him as he muttered loving words.

“You did so well, Cyril,” he said, fingers combing through his hair. “I loved that. I love when you feel good, sweetheart. You deserve it, you know that?” Cyril nuzzled into the crook of Ashe’s neck, drinking in the praise and the calm that washed over his body after climax. But with their closeness, it was impossible not to notice Ashe against him— he was hard, and despite the pleasure Cyril just received, he couldn’t be satisfied until the other felt it, too.

He bucked his hips just a bit— enough to draw a stuttered gasp from Ashe. It was a beautiful sound. One he knew Ashe hadn’t intended as the other always did his best to keep composure even in times of their deepest intimacy. Cyril loved nothing more than to break that composure down, to draw raw desire out of Ashe. He tilted his head upwards, planting kisses along the other’s jaw. “I can take more, Ashe,” he whispered. And Ashe whined. It was cut off, lasting only a fraction of a second, but Cyril heard it. That was all he needed.

Again, he moved against Ashe’s cock, feeling just how tight it pressed against the fabric of his clothes. Ashe shuddered and the hand in Cyril’s hair tightened, almost pulled, before relaxing again into a careful grip. “Are— are you sure, Cyril?” Ashe swallowed in the middle of his words, an attempt to level the trembling of his voice. “It’s alright if— if you’re tired.” Cyril shook his head and pulled away just enough to look at him.

What he meant to say felt like too much. Even with the giddiness of his situation, it took a moment to gain the strength. But the sight of Ashe helped console his insecurity. Red with half-lidded eyes and uneven breath— it looked as though Ashe was already struggling to contain himself. It would only take a little more to push him over the edge.

“Fuck me,” he pleaded. “I need you, Ashe.”

And that was it. Ashe’s lips were on his again, all but ravenous. He was led over to the bed, moved gently downwards until he laid on his back. Ashe broke their kiss, but only to explore other parts of Cyril’s body. His ear, his neck, his collarbone— the way Ashe’s teeth pressed into his skin was soft. Careful. But it felt wonderful. Cyril muttered out Ashe’s name, arching against him as he went.

“Oh Cyril— you’re beautiful,” Ashe said. “You’re so— just… I love you. I love you so much.”

Cyril wished he was as good with words as Ashe was. Ashe could lavish him with affection and praise as though it was an act as simple as breathing. Even in a moment like that, where he could barely keep himself together, he found time to compliment Cyril. To make him feel loved. Cyril wanted to do that, too— to flood his lover with declarations of how amazing he was. But the words didn’t come to him, so he settled for earnesty— what he was best at.

He brushed his thumb along Ashe’s cheek to gain his attention. And as their eyes met, Cyril looked at him with an adoring gaze. “I love you, too.” There was a moment of quiet. One where Ashe’s breath stopped. 

“ _ Fuck _ .” It was muttered under his breath in the same instant he sat up, grabbing at his pants to pull them off. Cyril watched him, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the skin as it was revealed. His stomach, his hips, and then his cock, as hard as Cyril had guessed. The clothing was cast aside and Ashe was over him once again, kissing and biting and loving every inch of him. When the affection ceased a moment later, Cyril let out a whine of protest.

“Just a moment, love,” Ashe said, dipping down to give Cyril a quick kiss on the nose. He leaned over and opened the drawer of his bedside table, taking a condom and a bottle of lube from inside. Cyril watched him as he moved, impatience itching at him. What could only have been a few seconds from the moment Ashe opened the bottle to when the fluid poured down his fingers felt like minutes— longer, even. And it must have shown somewhere in his expression, as when Ashe glanced up at him, he moved closer and placed the bottle beside him to free up a hand. His fingers rested on Cyril’s inner thigh, rubbing gentle circles where they did.

Cyril still craved more contact, but he hardly had the chance to ask before his wish was granted. With his other hand, Ashe began to spread the lube on Cyril— the touch made him jolt, still sensitive from before. Though it was almost too much, it was a welcome sensation. He just wanted Ashe’s hands on him. He wanted him closer. When Ashe slipped fingers inside of him, massaging his inner walls, Cyril gasped and grabbed at the other’s wrists to pull him deeper.

Ashe was encouraging— pressing kisses to the side of Cyril’s knee, whispering sweet nothings. It made it all feel safe. Like he was allowed to want it— to enjoy it. And it overwhelmed him with everything he felt for the other. With how much he loved him. How much he wanted him— not just as they were, but in every sense he could.

“Ashe, please,” he said, voice wavering with the emotions that flooded him. “Closer…” Ashe was quick to comply. Putting on the condom was the last step— he moved to Cyril right after, pressing their lips together with adoring softness. 

“You’re ready, love?” Ashe asked, voice merely a whisper. Cyril affirmed he was. And with that, Ashe positioned himself, one hand on Cyril’s hip to stabilize them both, the other intertwined with one of Cyril’s. He pushed inside, then, a slow motion. One that made Cyril gasp and quake as he adjusted to the feeling. The breath that fell from Ashe’s lips was beautiful. While he still fought to keep a hold of himself, he let bliss show clearly both on his face and in the sounds he made. Immersed in Cyril, pulling away and pushing deeper with every roll of his hips— in mere moments, Ashe was in ecstasy. From his moans to the way his fingertips dug into Cyril’s skin, the pleasure was all there for his lover to see. And it was mesmerizing.

The sight alone was nearly enough for Cyril to lose himself. The sensation was so much more— of having Ashe inside him, moving in a learned way. His cock against the spots that felt the best again and again and again. It made him whimper and arch his back and buck his hips, all in an effort to get more. To close any distance. To be in sync with the man he so cherished. Where his free hand had been gripping at the pillow behind him, he moved it to reach for Ashe— to hold on to the back of his neck and draw him downwards into another eager kiss. He gasped into the contact as soon as it was made. The change in positioning, though far from drastic, pushed Ashe even deeper still.

As they became entangled, their pace quickened. Cyril folded himself around Ashe, arms and legs all clinging desperately to his body. Ashe held him in turn, a tight embrace that steadied Cyril as he fucked him. Every thrust lost somewhere between calculated and ravenous. Their mouths and their tongues still moved against each other, though every brief lapse was filled with pleasured gasps and proclamations of their love.

Cyril could feel nothing else— think of nothing else— but Ashe. He wanted him to come. To feel as wonderful as he could in that moment they shared. So though they were already matched in the way they moved, he strained to give Ashe even more. He rolled his body harder against him, tensing around Ashe’s shaft whenever it reached its deepest point. Ashe cried out and shook and pounded into him, and then his whole body shuddered. He gasped and let out a sound not far from a sob. Cyril’s breathing was heavy— his muscles tired— but he refused to let up just then. He gave Ashe everything he had in those next moments, allowing his lover to ride out his orgasm to its full extent. And once he did, only then did Cyril let himself lay flat against the bed to catch his breath.

Cyril looked up to Ashe as the other pulled out of him and in the same moment, Ashe gazed back. He looked exhausted but satisfied, his eyes still half-closed. With a smile, he moved back in towards Cyril and began dotting light kisses all over him— across his face and down his neck. Cyril laughed, feeling rather ticklish.

“Hey—” He rolled over, shielding himself with his hands, and Ashe let out a hum.

“Oh, come back, honey,” he said with exaggerated disappointment. “I miss your face.”

“Mm… haven’t had enough of it yet?”

“Never,” Ashe settled down on his side, pressed against Cyril’s back, and loosely placed an arm around him. “Let me see you, beloved. You look so wonderful for me tonight.”

Cyril almost forgot what sparked their love-making to begin with. He felt his face heat up as it came back to him, taking a quick glance downwards at the fabric still around his chest and thighs. It was funny how flustered he felt— it was a bit too late for that, after all. He figured hiding from Ashe was futile and shifted so he once more lay on his back, gazing then at Ashe as the other took another look along his body. He let out a contented sigh, pulling Cyril against himself to give him one more kiss. “You’re amazing, Cyril,” he said. “So amazing…”

The heat of Ashe’s body was comforting and Cyril relaxed into it, snuggling as close as he could. He was tired, but a part of him still felt a bit giddy. His gift worked out— there wasn’t a single thing to be nervous for. And it meant that a world of possibilities was opened up for him. If Ashe was so receptive to such a simple set of lingerie, he wondered what else he could do for his partner. Because anything that could bring Ashe pleasure was something he deserved.

“You too, Ashe,” Cyril murmured, his eyelids falling as drowsiness set in. “I love you.”


End file.
